


Old Time Christmas

by AuroraStClaire



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Distressed Lucius Nosies, F/M, Good Lucius Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy-centric, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 08:13:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12979854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraStClaire/pseuds/AuroraStClaire
Summary: They’re older now.  The Malfoys finally organize the Christmas the way they wanted. As they watch over their guests, they reminisce about the Christmas’ of their past.





	Old Time Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Fairest of the Rare Advent.
> 
> I want to say thank you to my wonderful beta HeatherQuynn. You are an angel, thank you so much!
> 
> Special thanks to VinoAmore who took the time to give me kind feedback on this fic.
> 
> I'd appreciate it if you leave a comment and let me know what you think. Happy reading!
> 
> **Disclaimer: All the characters from the Harry Potter series belong to J. K. Rowling. I am grateful that she allows us to play in her world. All original ideas expressed within this story are mine. I am not making a profit from this. I am just happy to get the opportunity to write.**

The Malfoys, after many years of going without Christmas parties, finally got a proper one. Well, as close to it as they were likely to get. The guest list was a lot smaller, and there were children which had been set up with a witch-sitter. Everyone was elegantly dressed, there had been dancing. Lucius reveled in the chance to teach younger ladies how to dance in a more classical style.

 

Lucius had spared nothing on decorating, which had taken a month to set up. The banisters were wrapped in evergreens and other colourful baubles. Floating chandeliers could be seen  in every room. Various sized Christmas trees littered the house, wrapping the house in a warm pine hug. His crowning achievement was the three story tree that stood in the foyer. It was more decorations than tree, but still tasteful in a way only a Malfoy could do. But his favourite part of the decorations was Narcissa's idea, floating mistletoe that detected couples. Lucius played host, but he made sure he was by Narcissa's side whenever he could be. Any excuse to kiss his beautiful wife.

 

Lucius gazed over his guests that sat finishing the last of their desserts of what had been a great feast. He had made sure that there would be want of nothing; catering to all pallets, even to that of the pickiest child. This made for great conversation, as there was no screaming or complaining children because they had all stuffed their faces.

 

A gentle murmur settled over the grand dining table. Children were wiggling in anticipation, starring at Lucius. His gaze moved from his small family then onto the families he now called friends; the Potters, what was left of the Blacks, and the many incarnations of the Weasleys. Lucius smirked. He had never thought he'd see the day when Arthur and himself would be friends.

 

Narcissa's hand gently covered his own. Lucius' heart skipped as his gaze turned to her. His most treasured treasure. She smiled warmly, wrinkles crowned her twinkling eyes. The blonde witch still took his breath away, after all these years.

 

Narcissa softly tapped his hand, “Darling. The children are getting restless.”

 

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. As he stood like the enigmatic host he was, the table fell silent. All eyes focused on him. The corner of his mouth turned up as he cleared his throat.

 

Scorpius stared knives into him.

 

“Get on with it old man,” is what he would have said if his parents weren't stationed on either side of him.

 

Lucius smirked as he joined his hands together.

 

“Thank you for joining us this humble eve. There are drinks and cigars in the parlour for those of age,” he paused. It had been a long time since he had people hanging off his every word. He can afford a little time to be the slightest bit dramatic. “It is late. I believe it's time for the children to be off to bed.”

 

Disheartened cries erupted around the room, a crescendo which parents struggled to quiet.

 

“As it stands,” the children quelled their cries. “There is still the matter of the presents under the tree.”

 

Lucius grinned. “They will be shipped off in the morning.”

 

“Lucius!” Narcissa hissed.

 

Tears broke out around the table. Lucius knew it was wrong that he was enjoying this, but he couldn't help himself. “I will have silence!”

 

Narcissa's brow creased, shooting a warning at her husband.

 

Lucius swallowed and clenched his jaw. If there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was the wrath of his wife. “That is, if the bunch of you don't open them now. All unopened gifts will be sent away.”

 

The kids stared blinking at him. His audience thoroughly confused and emotionally wrecked. They would sleep well tonight.

 

“Well, get moving. They aren't going to open themselves.”

 

Shrieks of joy filled the room, followed by the screech of hardwood sliding against the marble floor. Lucius winced. Dampening and resisting charms would be needed for the next large gathering.

 

Parents ran after their children, hopelessly attempting to calm them into forming an orderly line. Paper flew as the adults stepped into the foyer.

 

Hermione scolded her children for being reckless and rude. She forced each child to go over to the senior Malfoy and his wife to apologize. The youngest, Hugo, walked up with a crimson flying train in hand.

 

“I'm sorry, you can have this red choo,” the boy sniffed, snot dripping from his nose.

 

Lucius ruffled the boys hair. “It's yours boy, keep it. Go open more.”

 

Hermione scowled disappointed that the Malfoy's didn't see how she was trying to discipline her child.

 

The boy gave Lucius a toothy grin, a garbled “Thank you,” then ran off to join the fray.

 

A head rested gently against his arm. His wife's arm wrapping around his waist. “Do you remember the year you bought Draco a mini Pegasus? He must have been around Hugo's age.”

 

Lucius grimaced. “I don't think I could forget.”

 

Narcissa chuckled. “How many of your father's enchanted vases did he knock over? Two?”

 

Lucius had stepped out the room that Christmas when he heard crashes, followed by the roaring of his father.

 

“It was five. The bloody thing also ate two of his priceless tapestries before he banished it from the manor. I wish I had let it bite his ankles a little more before getting rid of it all together.”

 

Narcissa sighed. “Life was better without that flying terror, anyway.”

 

Lucius gazed over at his wife eyebrow raised. “Do you mean my father or the Pegasus?”

 

Narcissa stifled a snort. Lucius chuckled softly as he caressed her fingers tenderly.

 

Scorpius zoomed by the couple ricocheting off a large bust of Merlin, which crashed to the floor. Lucius gasped.

 

“Sorry, Grandfather,” the boy mutters before getting back on his broom.

 

Lucius knelt down by the newly formed rubble, unable to touch the pieces. Astoria and Draco yelled after Scorpius to get down, but to no avail.

 

“Let him be a child. Leave him be.” Narcissa called to them taking the part of the doting grandmother.

 

“I just had it made!” Lucius whined.

 

Narcissa tsked. “It's nothing a little repairing charm can't fix.” She waved her wand and the shattered bust was back on its pedestal, shiny and new.

 

“It's the principal, Cissa.”

 

“Pish, posh, it's just a material thing.”

 

“Just a thing!” Lucius stood his eyes wide, his voice high and strained.

 

“Be careful, dear husband. You are beginning to sound like your father.”

 

Scorpius, again, smashed into the bust. Lucius clenched his fists. He was by no means going to become his father, but that didn't mean he wasn't annoyed with what his grandson had done. Lucius had half a mind to threaten the rest of his presents if Scorpius got back on the broom.

 

“He flys like you, Malfoy,” Ginny called across the room.

 

Draco clenched his jaw. “I wasn't that bad.”0

 

All the younger adults burst out laughing.

 

Narcissa waved her wand once more returning the bust to its former glory. “Seems to run in the family.”

 

Lucius' gaze shot to his wife. “I was not near as bad as our son or grandson.”

 

Narcissa placed her hands on her hips. “Well, you certainly weren't a Ginevra Potter.”

 

“I could give her a run for her money.” Lucius' chest puffed out.

 

“Says the man who flew into his own goal posts three times in the same match.” Narcissa raised an eyebrow.

 

Lucius' shoulders dropped as he pursed his lips. Narcissa shook her head with a gentle laugh. Lucius knew it wasn't his flying that had caused her to fall in love with him. He'd like to think he was a good flier but if he was honest with himself, he most certainly wasn't. He looked into those beautiful forget-me-not eyes, pulling her towards him. He leaned down to her.

 

A smolder of black powder filled his nose. An explosion rang through the room. Both Lucius and Narcissa turned in alarm. Hermione's hair stood on end her face blackened as bits of confetti floated around the room.

 

“George Weasley!” she bellowed, “Was that really necessary?”

 

The older man chuckled. “You shouldn't be opening the kid's gifts.”

 

Everyone else joined in on the laughter. “Well, if you hadn't used forever tape I wouldn't have to. And I don't appreciate you trying to blow up my children.”

 

“The paper only explodes if it isn't opened by who it's intended for. I know you've read the label of our wrapping paper.”

 

Hermione clenched her jaw.

 

Narcissa covered her mouth trying to stifle a laugh that soon shook her body. She bent over sounding like a stressed goose, her face red. Lucius eyed his wife with concern. You never knew what the aftermath of a Weasley product would be.

 

Narcissa tried to form words, but they came out like a failed breath into a bagpipe. Once she could compose herself a little, she spoke. “Do you remember the only time we went to my parents’ for Christmas?”

 

Lucius paled. “I don't know what Christmas you're speaking of? We've only had Christmas here.” Lucius words were sharp. He turned away from his wife, trying to focus on the papered mess that had formed.

 

“Should I regale all of our family and friends with the story then?”

 

Lucius whipped around. He spoke in a low, strained voice, “You will do no such thing.”

 

“But it's so funny.”

 

“You were the only one that found it so.” Lucius crossed his arms once again, turning from his wife.

 

Her hand gently pulled on his shoulder. “No, you were the only one who didn't find it funny.”

 

Lucius shrugged her hand off his shoulder. Narcissa then linked her arm around his, pulling him towards everyone else.

 

Lucius dug his heels in and pulled her between two smaller Christmas trees. “Please Cissa. We've never talked about that Christmas.”

 

“But I remember it ever so fondly.”

 

Lucius swallowed. There was no stopping his wife now. He hoped that no one was within earshot, or would be interested in hearing the story.

 

“Daddy had gotten you so drunk on his 'special' dragon liquor that you didn't notice the dragon crackers Bella wrapped around your head.”

 

“You were sober, and shouldn't have let her anywhere near my head.”

 

Narcissa grinned. “You knew Bella, once she started something there was no stopping her.”

 

“Sounds like someone I know,” he muttered. He gazed around no one appeared to be listening for the moment.

 

Her laughter rang out again. "The dance you did, flailing around like a windswept spider, Daddy was literally rolling on the floor laughing.”

 

Keeping an ever watchful eye, his gaze moved to the decorations of the tree and what colour he might use next year.

 

Narcissa's voice squeezed through to his ears. Her finger prodding into his ribs brought his attention back to his wife.

 

“Oh, Merlin, the laughter! Then when the sparkles finally stop, and you touched what was left of your hair.”

 

Lucius tried to cover his wife's mouth. She wrapped her fingers around his hand, pushing it down. Lucius whimpered.

 

“Your luscious locks disintegrated into nothing.”

 

Lucius closed his eyes. He'd pushed that memory so deep, so he'd never had to think about it again. His gorgeous hair, floating away like fluffy snowflakes. The burns were a far second to the loss of his precious hair. This is why he loathed Bellatrix.

 

“You apparated us home faster than you could say “fire whiskey.” The look on your face when you came screaming out of the bathroom there was nothing left, not even your eyebrows.”

 

Lucius weakly grabbed onto her shoulders. “Cissa please.” If any child overheard and retold this story, he'd never live it down. For all the joy a child brought, the one thing he severely disliked was their lack of filter. He leaned in, hoping that one of his glorious kisses would make her forget the story she was telling.

 

“That was my favourite Christmas.” her voice was barely a whisper.

 

Lucius' eyes went wide. Why were all tonight's memories of him in some sort of pain? Had his wife finally gone mad with old age? A small smile sat on her lips.

 

“It wasn't because of your dance or the loss of your hair,” Narcissa bit her lip, “Well, maybe that had a little to do with it, but not entirely.”

 

Lucius wanted to melt away. Yes, he could apparate, but that would leave Narcissa unguarded and then the story would be told to all there guests.

 

“That was my worst Christmas,” his hand fisted against the wall behind her. “I hated you for laughing at me.”

 

“I know.” She caressed his cheek, “But do you remember what happened after the laughter faded?”

 

“The laughter never faded, not until my hair grew back.” Lucius was so ashamed of that moment and how he had acted, but who could blame him. A man like Lucius did not walk around like he had to.

 

“It did. Think back.”

 

“No,” his gaze dropped. “Nothing good can come from remembering.”

 

Narcissa lifted his chin so that their gazes met. “Something will, I promise.” Her delicate eyes pleaded with him.

 

Lucius sighed, covering her hand with his. He caressed his thumb over her fingers. “Only because I love you.”

 

_The howls of his wife's laughter rang through his mind. He jumped this way and that, trying to cover his most supreme embarrassment. He'd collapsed in tears when he realized he had nothing, not even the ingredients to make a regrow potion. He'd have to go out into public with his pearl-like globe and house-elf like brow._

 

_Narcissa had pulled him onto the bed trying to calm him, while he declared over and over that he was a terrible monster and that she should leave him._

 

_She ran a calming hand up and down his arm. “Lucius, I love you, not because of your glorious hair.”_

 

_Lucius howled. It was as if she'd rubbed salt into a wound._

 

“ _I love you because you've never forgotten how I like my tea; because you know when I need to be pulled from a conversation; because you hold my hair when I'm over the loo when I've had too much to drink; because you never stop writing me letters, reminding me how wonderful I am and how much you'd be lost without me. I love you because you're you.”_

 

_She took a breath before gently pulling on his hand. “And because together we've created something truly special.” She placed his hand on her belly._

 

_A long silence followed, then Lucius began blindly feeling around her belly. The weight of her words dawning on him as his sobbing stopped._

 

_He rubbed his eyes. “Are you pregnant?” His eyes remained wide. A soft blush on his cheeks._

 

“ _Yes,” Narcissa beamed, squeezing his hand._

 

_A different kind of tear filled his eyes. “Oh Cissa, that's wonderful.” He enveloped her in his arms, showering her with tender kisses._

 

_That night had been a mess of joyous tears, sweat, limbs, and love. So much love. They had lain awake until the sun came up; talking about how they loved each other, names, and what they wanted for their child. They'd planned out Draco's whole l life before he was the size of a peanut._

 

Lucius breathed gently, “Half of that Christmas may be my favourite as well.”

 

Narcissa grinned as he wrapped her hands around his middle.

 

“Happy Christmas, Darling.” she pushed up onto her toes.

 

Lucius met her lips, still tasting of peppermint from dessert. Narcissa pulled him closer, her hands gently pulling at his shirt. Lucius closed the distance remaining by sliding his hand to the back of her neck.

 

It was her, it always had been. Everything he had ever done was first for his wife, then his son. He'd always made sure he'd come last, because there was nothing more important to him. He'd be nothing without Narcissa. Their life hadn't been easy or perfect but with Narcissa and Draco, it had been enough.

 

Narcissa dropped her arms, moving her delicate hands slowly up his chest. His body shook with need. He could get lost in her touch for hours and he routinely did. Softly, her hands moved around his neck. Her fingers twisting in his long since shortened locks. Heat bloomed in his chest. Nothing was more delicious than the way her hands and fingers curled into his hair, no matter the length. The sparkling scent of the citrus and wood of her perfume filled Lucius with a complete sense of passion for the smaller woman in his arms. He'd never tired of her. And if they could stay like this forever, he'd never be want for anything. She'd been the best gift he could have ever asked for.

 

Lucius felt a tug on his cloak. He didn't pull away. His wife deserved far better than to be left with a half-finished kiss. The tug insisted. Lucius gently caressed Narcissa's cheek before pulling away slightly. Her sapphire eyes glowed.

 

After a much harder tug, Lucius turned to see who was persistently yanking at his cloak. Potter's youngest, Lily.

 

She held a silver gift to him, topped with an emerald green bow. His wife's loopy writing spelled out his name. “Mr. Malfoy, aren't you going to open your gifts?”

 

“In a minute, sweetheart. I'm tied up with one at the moment.”

 

Lily's gaze washed over them. She frowned. “Adults are weird,” she muttered before sauntering off to the crowd.

 

Lucius's forehead fell against his wife's as they both chuckled.

 

His finger curled into a loose lock of hair. “Happy Christmas, my darling wife.”


End file.
